March 8, Amsterdam Arena.
It was the night of the second leg of the UEFA Champions League Round of 16.
Ajax vs. Real Madrid.
In the first leg, Ajax had stunned Europe by defeating Real Madrid 3–1 at the Santiago Bernabéu. That match not only shocked Spanish media, but had also triggered internal chaos at Madrid, leading to the resignation of President Florentino Pérez. Now, with their backs against the wall, Los Blancos arrived in Amsterdam with only one possible outcome in mind: survival.
To qualify for the quarter-finals, Madrid had no choice. They had to attack, and they had to win by at least three goals, unless they wanted their Champions League campaign—and their season—to end here.
From the moment the lineups were confirmed, it was clear that Real Madrid were throwing everything forward.
In goal: Iker Casillas.
Backline: Roberto Carlos, Sergio Ramos, Julien Escudé, and Michel Salgado.
Jonathan Woodgate, who had started the first leg, was now ruled out for the rest of the season by the Madrid medical team. It marked his second major injury blow in less than a year, and it didn't go unnoticed that he had picked up that injury in the first leg—chasing Yang Yang.
In fact, Madrid's injury woes against Ajax were becoming a trend.
In their last meeting two years ago, it was Raúl Bravo who came off worse after trying to stop Yang Yang one-on-one. He was on the bench tonight but wouldn't feature. The Spanish press had even begun speculating—half seriously—that Yang Yang was "jinxed" for Madrid defenders.
The midfield was built for combat and control: Guti and Thomas Gravesen played in the double pivot, with Zidane, Raúl, and David Beckham positioned ahead of them. Ronaldo led the line alone, a tactical decision that had sparked debate before kickoff.
Many in Madrid's media circles questioned whether the Brazilian legend should have even started. His form had dipped, his fitness remained uncertain, and criticism had mounted after the first leg. Yet manager Juan Ramón López Caro had kept faith in him. Perhaps out of loyalty, or perhaps because he simply had no better option.
In any case, the lineup sent a clear message: this was Madrid's strongest available XI.
On the other side, Ajax once again lined up in their familiar 4-5-1, but with a slight variation from the first leg.
In goal was Maarten Stekelenburg.
The defense: Maxwell on the left, Thomas Vermaelen and John Heitinga as center-backs, with Maicon on the right.
The midfield five, from left to right, consisted of Steven Pienaar, Yaya Touré, Nigel de Jong, Wesley Sneijder, and Ryan Babel.
Yang Yang played as the lone striker.
The notable change came in midfield: Ryan Babel replaced Galásek. It was a bold call from Ronald Koeman, dropping an experienced holding midfielder for a raw but fast wide player.
But the logic was clear.
Koeman believed in his midfield's ability to match Madrid technically and physically, and by introducing Babel's pace, he aimed to exploit Madrid's aggressive forward movement. With Pienaar and Babel both able to break forward at speed, Ajax now had not just one, but three rapid transition outlets, including Yang Yang.
From the lineup alone, it was obvious.
Koeman wasn't playing to defend a lead.
He was preparing to land the knockout blow.
...
...
From the moment the referee blew the whistle, both teams plunged into a high-tempo, high-stakes battle.
Real Madrid started aggressively, pressing with urgency and intent. There was no hesitation in their approach—they came to dominate, and they made that clear from the opening seconds.
But Ajax, playing in front of their home crowd, refused to back down. Even under pressure, they maintained their rhythm and looked for gaps in Madrid's shape.
In just the second minute, they found one.
After winning the ball in midfield, Ajax launched a swift transition. Yang Yang pulled away into space, drew a defender toward him, and quickly pivoted, threading a perfectly timed through ball into the right channel for Ryan Babel.
It was a golden opportunity.
But Babel, in his eagerness, misjudged his first touch. The ball got caught slightly under his foot, costing him the chance to accelerate cleanly. That brief delay was all Sergio Ramos needed. The Madrid defender recovered quickly, closed him down, and used his body to outmuscle Babel, cleanly winning the ball.
Yang Yang clapped his hands and shouted encouragement from the edge of the box, signaling for Babel to shake it off and stay focused.
Babel nodded, but his expression was tight.
The younger winger had long been considered one of Ajax's brightest talents. In the youth ranks, he had even outshone Yang Yang at times. Coaches had praised his physicality, his raw pace, and his technical base. On paper, he had every tool.
But in matches like these, the difference between potential and performance became painfully clear.
What Yang Yang had, Babel lacked—not in talent, but in execution. Yang Yang's decision-making, his consistency, and above all his relentless discipline had turned him into a machine. Babel, by contrast, still struggled to deliver under pressure.
Everyone watching that counterattack could see it.
Had it been Yang Yang receiving that ball, the chance would have looked very different. Even if he hadn't scored, he would've made the defense work harder. At the very least, the ball wouldn't have been lost just thirty meters from goal.
Babel had the tools. He just hadn't honed them like Yang Yang.
And somewhere along the way, he had begun to realize that himself.
Not openly, and not in words. But in his actions, in his expressions—especially in games like this—it showed. The gap wasn't just physical anymore. It was mental. It was about timing, choices, resilience.
He had stopped trying to be Yang Yang.
And quietly, perhaps even without meaning to, he had begun to accept that he wasn't.
...
...
Real Madrid quickly regrouped after losing possession and launched a direct counterattack.
Following Ryan Babel's failed run, Thomas Gravesen recovered the ball and quickly shifted play to the right flank, where David Beckham was already sprinting into space. The Englishman whipped in a precise early cross, curling it just behind the Ajax back line. Ronaldo, positioned near the penalty spot, rose for the header—but misjudged the timing. From seven meters out, his attempt looped harmlessly over the bar.
It wasn't a glaring miss, but it did little to silence critics. Much like Yang Yang earlier in his career, Ronaldo had long drawn scrutiny for his heading ability.
Real Madrid kept pushing. In the fourth minute, Roberto Carlos, overlapping on the left, cut inside and let fly from the edge of the box. It was speculative at best—the ball flew well wide, drawing a few groans from the Madrid bench.
Ajax responded in the fifth minute with an attacking move of their own. Yang Yang, pulling wide into the left half-space, dragged a defender with him before slicing a diagonal pass between the lines for Wesley Sneijder, who had ghosted in from midfield. But Julien Escudé read the pass well, sliding in to intercept before Sneijder could strike. The loose ball fell to Steven Pienaar, who let fly from distance, but his shot rose high over the bar.
In those early minutes, Yang Yang could already sense it: Real Madrid were up for the fight. Their players were alert, aggressive, and willing to engage in duels. The tempo was quick, transitions sharp, and Madrid looked intent on overwhelming Ajax with their pedigree and intensity.
But something still felt off.
Yang Yang couldn't put his finger on it at first. On the surface, Madrid looked sharp. Their technical ability was, without question, world-class. Their spatial awareness, comfort on the ball, and passing speed gave them a dominant edge in possession. Ajax, by contrast, had to stay compact and weather the early storm.
But even with their qualities, Real Madrid lacked bite. The threat was theoretical, not tangible.
That odd feeling crystallized in the tenth minute.
Ajax misplaced a pass in midfield, and Madrid pounced immediately. Ronaldo received the ball near the center circle and surged forward. It was the kind of open-space scenario where he'd once thrived—ball glued to his feet, defenders scrambling to keep up.
But Nigel de Jong, tracking back with conviction, did something no one expected.
He caught him.
Stride for stride, De Jong closed the gap and, just outside the box, launched into a perfectly-timed sliding challenge, knocking the ball away cleanly and sending Ronaldo tumbling. The referee whistled for a foul but kept his card in his pocket.
As De Jong popped up, pumping his fists, Ronaldo lay on the turf momentarily before slowly rising, visibly winded.
Yang Yang had seen enough.
He watched the scene unfold as he drifted back toward midfield, mind processing what had just happened. Ten minutes into a must-win Champions League match, and Ronaldo—his idol—was already laboring for breath.
Something wasn't right.
It wasn't just Ronaldo either. Across the pitch, Real Madrid's intensity was skin-deep. It was a performance of urgency, not actual urgency. The players were willing, but their bodies weren't. They were a beat slow to recover, a step late on second balls. And Yang Yang had begun to understand why.
It all went back to a conversation he'd had with Ronald Koeman weeks earlier.
"Everyone says Real Madrid's problems stem from their 'superstar strategy'—too many egos, not enough balance," Koeman had said. "But that's only half the truth. The real issue is systemic. The privilege they've extended to those stars has undermined their athletic culture."
"There are plenty of unbalanced teams that still compete," the coach continued. "But Madrid have gone soft. Their training lacks intensity. Their physical conditioning is below standard. That's why when they meet a team like us—young, hungry, disciplined—they struggle to cope."
Now, watching Ronaldo's slow retreat and De Jong's celebration, Yang Yang finally saw the truth in those words.
At Ajax, training was relentless. Every session was a test. Even veterans like Tomáš Galásek understood that intense, structured preparation was what preserved performance—what turned tired legs into sharp instincts.
At Real Madrid, it seemed the opposite had taken root. Comfort had replaced accountability. Privilege had dulled the edge. Yang Yang, who trained tirelessly in the Dream Training System night after night, could feel the difference just by watching.
And he couldn't help but feel disappointed.
Not in Ronaldo's talent—he still revered it—but in what could have been. Despite multiple injuries, Ronaldo had returned and played at an elite level time and again. That alone earned respect. But Yang Yang couldn't shake the thought: if he had been more committed, if he had pushed himself harder, how much higher could he have gone?
The answer was unknowable. But the regret, even secondhand, was real.
It reminded Yang Yang of the stories he'd heard from Inter Milan, of Ronaldo's clashes with Héctor Cúper, a coach known for his demanding sessions. Ronaldo had resisted, claiming the training was too harsh. Eventually, the relationship deteriorated—and with it, his durability.
Yang Yang respected individuality, but in football, as in life, some standards could not be bent without consequence.
At 29, Ronaldo should still have been peaking.
Instead, he looked like a player from another era.
And that, more than anything, was what made Yang Yang feel a quiet, lingering sorrow.
...
While Yang Yang was still deep in thought, reflecting on the lessons that could be drawn from the decline of Real Madrid's fitness standards, the match marched on.
The intensity hadn't dropped. Both sides continued to probe, press, and counter. Ajax, more compact and well-drilled, relied on collective energy, while Real Madrid leaned on moments of individual brilliance to force breakthroughs.
By the twenty-ninth minute, Ajax's structure paid off again.
It began with Yaya Touré, whose physical dominance in midfield had already caused several turnovers. Reading Guti's loose touch just inside the center circle, the Ivorian stepped in to win the ball cleanly before driving forward into the space left behind.
Seeing the opportunity unfold ahead of him, Yaya didn't hesitate.
With the outside of his boot, he slipped a precise pass between the lines—straight into Yang Yang's stride.
The Ajax forward was already on the move, bursting in from the right-hand channel and timing his run perfectly to avoid the offside trap. Receiving the ball in stride, he accelerated into the penalty area, cutting inside from the right with Julien Escudé backpedaling nervously.
Yang Yang shaped to shoot with his left, but just as he was about to pull the trigger, Sergio Ramos arrived with a sliding challenge, forcing him to abort the shot.
In one fluid motion, Yang Yang adjusted.
Pivoting onto his planted foot, he swept a diagonal ball across the face of the box with his left boot—perfectly weighted and placed into the path of Steven Pienaar, who was arriving unmarked on the opposite side.
The South African didn't break stride. With calm precision, he side-footed the ball with his right across Iker Casillas and into the bottom corner.
The Amsterdam Arena erupted.
1–0, Ajax!
It wasn't just a goal; it was a statement.
Against a Real Madrid side stacked with Ballon d'Or winners and international icons, it was Ajax—the youthful, fearless underdogs—who struck first.
And Yang Yang, even when not on the scoresheet, was once again at the heart of it. His awareness, control, and decision-making turned a blocked opportunity into a golden assist. The way he adjusted in a split second, then calmly picked out Pienaar, showed maturity beyond his years.
As the Ajax players gathered to celebrate, a ripple of excitement coursed through the stadium.
The aggregate now stood at 4–1 in Ajax's favor.
Real Madrid needed three goals just to force extra time.
But based on the way Ajax were playing—and the way Madrid were fading—those three goals suddenly seemed very far away.